


Peter Parker Keeps Dying

by Archangel_Senpai



Category: Marvel, Spider-Gwen (Comics)
Genre: Bad Decisions, F/F, F/M, love square
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 10:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18071963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel_Senpai/pseuds/Archangel_Senpai
Summary: Gwen Stacy is having a rough time. She's under SHIELD's thumb, the band is breaking up, and an alternate universe amnesiac Peter Parker just dropped into her dimension. After two spider wars, she's not sure if she's willing to deal with this one. Plus, she's developing feelings for the one friend she still talks to.





	Peter Parker Keeps Dying

 Okay, so from the start then?

My name is Gwen Stacy. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and became the one and only Spider-Woman. Sometimes Ghost Spider. Mostly the first one.

I became a vigilante. My best friend died. Peter Parker. Then I got whisked into an interdimensional war between spider-people and weird energy vampires. I saw another Peter Parker die. Actually, a lot of Peter Parkers died. Peters Parkers? Most were Spider-men.

Kinda weird to think about.

I ran with a group called the Web Warriors for a while. That didn’t work out so well,.

Blah blah, more heroics, lost another friend, lost my powers, gained new powers, my father got hurt, I got rid of the Kingpin, I went to jail, came back from jail, more interdimensional assorted bullshit.

More of my friends died. I had to be the one to tell their families.

But, it’s whatever. It’s not like I’m the only one who’s ever been through this. Just because I wear spandex instead of a uniform doesn’t make it any different.

I came back and the Captain recruited me. I couldn’t say no.

“Why is that?”

I pause and shift against the leather seat. Gross. If you’re gonna have leather upholstery, at least run the AC during summer.

“Cuz the cops wouldn’t have me and I already went to jail for vigilantism.”

“You had a choice, though. Captain Wilson and Director Carter alike made it clear that it would be up to you to align yourself with S.H.I.E.L.D, you don’t have to be Spider-Woman.”

I snort. I hate therapists.

“Let’s agree to disagree, then.”

It’s sweltering outside. If I had a choice, I would have stayed home in my underwear with all the blinds closed. It’s not even ice cream weather, it’s shove-your-face-into-a-lake weather. A car rolls to a stop besides me. Great.

“If you’re looking for directions to Times Square, Google exists.”

“Very funny, Gwendolyne. Get in."

I slam the door, making the entire car shake. “You really didn’t have to pick me up, Dad.”

Dad’s eyebrows lower. I know he’s been worried about me but I don’t know what to say. I lean against the window as we start to drive away.

“How did therapy go?”

“I’m the picture of good mental health.”

“Gwen.”

“I can deploy anytime, but, you know, Captain America can take care of things on her own. Such a workaholic, right?”

Dad turns to stare at me.

“Hey, keep your eyes on the road.” I mumble.

“Be honest with me, Gwen.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. The psych refuses to give me the clear. But you know how these things are, right? It’s all just bureaucracy.”

“Then why were you darting around the subject?”

I give him a pointed look. “When did you get so perceptive?”

“You can take the man out of the detectives, but you can’t take the detective out of the man.”

Dad stops the car in front of my apartment building. At least the drive is short. I don’t know if I could handle any more of his fatherly insight. I grab my things and step out. Dad leans in after me. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to move back in, Gwen? I understood when you were living with friends, but you’re all alone out here. Maybe you could go back to college-”

“I’m sure, dad. I’ll be home on Sunday, okay? We can watch the game.”

He gives me a look that makes me want to run up the building in shame, but then he nods. I close the door and watch him drive off.

Good job on pushing away everyone who cares about you, Spider-woman. I get my mail and head upstairs. 

Picture the shittiest apartment. No, worse. You know the trendy brick accent on fancy lofts? Imagine that but it’s because the paint sloughed off. Now put a stack of empty pizza boxes and beer cans in a corner. There you go. Home sweet home. Casa de Stacy.

I lie down with a cold can of hipster brew. “To the inexorable passage of time.” I say and dink the can against the wall. At least I can be garbage in private now.

“You’re going to choke and die.”

I groan and cover my eyes with my forearm. “Em-jaaaaaay, I told you to not come over without texting me.”

“I did text you.” MJ steps in through the window. I need to start locking that. “You never responded and I was afraid you’d died wallowing in your own ego.”

“Pot, meet kettle.” I sit up. I’m pretty sure I heard my back creak. This crime fighting thing ruins your body. “What are you doing here?”

MJ sits down next to me. She has a white bag full of take out boxes.

“I brought you Chinese to supplement your barley based diet.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so, the breaking and entering is forgiven then.” I roll my eyes but open one of the boxes. “Ooh, wonton soup.”

“Is it still breaking and entering if you leave your windows open and anyone can just come in through the fire escape.”

“Yes.” I pause, halfway through bringing a wonton to my mouth. “I think.”

“How did therapy go?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that. You know, I do have other things going on with my life.”

“Like, what?”

“... The band.”

“You want  _ me _ to ask  _ you _ how my band is going?”

I collapse back. “Oh my god, I have nothing going on with my life.”

“Well, you’re about to have even less.” MJ takes my beer away and sips at it. “I broke up with Glory.”

I rolled over to scream into the futon. When I look back up, MJ is staring at me. 

“You’re turning into spiders.”

“It’s the ‘Venom’. It happens.”

“You are  _ turning  _ into  _ spiders . _ ”

“What about the band?!”

“I feel like you’re taking my break up harder than me. Can we address the spiders?”   


I sit up and try to focus on reeling in Venom. I bite my knuckle. “What _happened?”_

“I don’t know, Gwen.” MJ slams back the rest of my beer. “Shit happens.”

We sit in silence for a while.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“I… wasn’t gonna say it was.” I glance at her. She hugs her knees. 

“People assume.”

“No assumptions here. Just spiders.”

“Ew.” she punches my arm. “And don’t even think about sending your drones after me like you did with your dad.”

“How do you even know that.” I scoff. “...We could find another keyboardist?”

“It’s not the same.”

“Yeah.” I say, letting my gaze drop to the floor. A little black spider scuttles across it. “It’s not.”

We sit in uncomfortable silence for a while.

“You could go solo. Get signed up by a major label.”

MJ punches me again. “Get out. I’m not that starved for attention.”

She gets up and sits at my drum kit. I toss her the sticks and she flails to catch them. 

“Come on. You know I can’t.”

“It’s just beating things with sticks.” I get up. “If I can do it, anyone can.”

“Not to be sappy or anything,” she tests each drum and snare. “But there’s plenty of things you can do that no one else can. I mean, you’re Spider-Gwen.”

“Spider-Woman.” I shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. “In name only, anyway. The Captain’s benched me.”

“Yeah, but when they need you? And you, specifically, the you that can do things that no one else can? They will call you.” She drums up a simple rhythm.

“This breakup must be really going to your head. You’re being way too nice to me.”

MJ sighs. “Yeah. I need all the friends I can get right now.”

I watch her for a little while then step back into the bathroom. When I come out in almost full spider gear, she’s staring at me funny.

“Going somewhere?”

I toss her the mask. “Yeah. Let’s go for a joyride.”

The thing about webswinging is that it literally never gets old. You’d think it would be like driving. When you get your license, you’re all excited because you can go anywhere, but eventually, it just fades into routine. Just another part of your drab day. 

I think. I can’t drive, I’m from New York.

I do a flip in the air and MJ screams. Sure, giving her the mask might be a little overblown, but I’m not interested in parading her around town for the tabloids to see. Even if it means I have to swallow a few bugs. And I will keep telling myself it’s worth it until I believe it.

I touch down on the Chrysler Building and set MJ down besides me. 

“Oh my god.” She’s out of breath from screaming. “ _ How _ do you do this everyday!?”

“You get used to it.” I squat down, looking at the street. “The superhuman durability helps.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m going to die.” she presses her back against the building, pulling my mask up. I catch myself looking at her a second too long.

“Relax. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

“I would prefer not to fall at all.”

“We can also do that.” I relax, letting my head drop.

“I don’t think I like being the leader anymore.”

“Completely understandable.” I sigh.

“I keep looking at what everyone else is doing. My sister, other bands, you with your superhero thing. Maybe I severely overestimated my importance.”

I laugh, which earns me a dirty look. “If it makes you feel better, I am, by far, the dumbest Gwen Stacy I’ve ever met.”

“It does, actually. What are other versions of me like?”

“I’ve heard good things, but you’re still number one to me.”

She snorts and looks away. “It’s getting cold.”

“Ready to go home?”

She nods and pulls the mask back down. “...Can we take the long way around, though?”

After dropping MJ off at her aunt’s place, I get a corn dog and sit on a ledge, watching the world go by. I guess I’ve been spending too much time moping. And, hey, my schedule just got wide open for now. Maybe I’ll pick up a hobby.

“You look worried, Gwen Stacy.”

“Oh, trust me, I am.” I roll my eyes. Okay, who is it this time and how are they unaware of the spidey sense. S.H.I.E.L.D.? One of Vulture’s friends? Or…

I sigh, shoulders dropping, and look aside. Crouching on the ledge, there’s someone who looks familiar and new at the same time.

Peter Parker.

“So, what dimension are you from and who’s killing us now?”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there.” He stammers, holding his hands up. He’s wearing mismatched clothes and he’s around my age. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I get up. I’m not in a good mood and this guy isn’t helping. “I’m asking who you are, and don’t jerk me around.”

“I don’t know, okay!” He stands up as well, taking a step back. “I woke up here a week ago, unable to remember anything, I saw you on TV so I tried to find you.”

I pause. “What?”

“You’re like me, you know, with the wall crawling and the thwip thwip.” He shows me his wrists. Okay. Organize web spinners. Weird.

“I’m sorry.” I put my hands between us. “Roll the tape back here,  _ who _ are you?”

“I don’t know.” He says.

I look at him for a minute. I don’t think he’s lying. 

“You can help me, right?” He puffs up. “You’re a superhero!”

Goddammit, i am not ready for this. 


End file.
